The Joe Brennan Spy Thrillers

by Sam Powers

  ‘Deputy director Tarrant. National Intelligence Director Wilkie was not available, I assume? A function of his age, no doubt.’

  It was a direct shot. Everyone knew that Nicholas Wilkie had been relatively old when appointed. Too old, in point of fact. A former three-star general, he’d spent most of the prior six months in and out of hospital rooms.

  Tarrant’s instinct was to return the broadside, bring up Chan’s country had some sort of mess on its hands. Instead, he was deliberately diplomatic. It would have the double impact of being both effective and annoying, he knew. ‘As you’ve doubtless been informed, one of our men was killed in Hong Kong on Monday.’

  ‘Adam Kwok, a field agent.’

  ‘A consular attaché. A glorified security consultant...’

  ‘...who was no doubt using all of that fiber optic cable to help Tony Lo fix the terrible holes in his apartment building’s walls.’

  ‘You’re speaking of the raid in the adjacent apartment? Coincidence, I’m sure. Obviously, however, it’s of great concern to us that he appears to have been slain while in the custody of the Hong Kong Police Department, and the night before a missile launch from China’s partner...’

  ‘We have many partners.’

  ‘...North Korea.’

  ‘It appears your intelligence in this regard is also mistaken,’ Chan said. ‘We know nothing of this latest incident with our neighbors. And your officer was in fact found with the gun in his hand that took his life, and that of one of our fine Hong Kong police officers. It is a most regrettable incident, given his diplomatic status.’

  ‘And it’s part of the reason why I felt the need to contact you personally and offer our help with respect to this other matter,’ Tarrant replied.

  ‘Other matter? Whatever could you be referring to, deputy director?’

  Tarrant kept his tone matter-of-fact, as if everyone knew. ‘Well, obviously this whole ‘Legacy’ project, chairman. My apologies, I assumed you were of sufficient rank to have been briefed.’

  ‘If there is something of significance for us to discuss, deputy director, I assure you I am fully aware of it. Perhaps you could be a bit more specific. After all a "legacy project" is a fairly common term.’

  Tarrant wanted to smile but he remained stoic. Playing ‘who can say less’ with Chan was fun, but it was clear neither wanted to make the first concession. ‘This would be the one involving your agents striking at America’s heart. That one. The one over which you appear to have little-to-no-control.’

  ‘We have no such operation,’ Chan said. ‘Certainly, if there is any intent on the part of individuals to attack your country, it is not done with the endorsement, guidance or authority of the People’s Republic of China.’

  ‘For a non-existent operation, it’s receiving a startling amount of attention right now from your various agencies. It has a lot of people thinking that perhaps the North Korean launch was a dry run of some sort. While the United States would obviously never violate the sovereign communications of a nation such as China, some of our foreign partners tell us your various intelligence agencies are talking about almost nothing but; and your own technical surveillance department seems most interested in everything we’re talking about. So maybe we should all try getting along on this thing...’

  Chan shook his head as if slightly bemused. ‘What ‘thing?’ As I said, deputy director, we have nothing to share. And we do not appreciate obvious violations of our privacy. If there is an internal matter that is receiving the lion’s share of our attention, you may rest assured that it will remain private.’

  ‘Isn’t this something we should get out of the way now, before your premier and our president meet in a few weeks to discuss limiting the North Koreans? I’d hardly suggest a potential international incident is the ideal backdrop to diplomacy.’

  ‘Mr. Tarrant,’ Chan suggested, ‘I have no idea what you could be referring to.’

  The committee session had not been scheduled until the following day, but Chan wanted everyone aware of the Americans’ involvement. He’d given them a recap of the conversation with Tarrant. They sat around the semi-circular conference table awaiting his recommendation.

  ‘It is clear, at this moment, that the Americans are fully aware that Legacy exists and that its purpose is malevolent. The true nature of it, I suspect, eludes them. Our priority now must be to shut it down as quickly as possible. Even if its individual components are not in place or we are not aware of them, we must not allow a decades-old fable to be used as justification for a terrorist attack. Our holdings in the United States are far too extensive, and the risk of retaliation is significant.’

  Wen Xiu was concerned that Chan Man Wei was holding information back. They had sparred numerous times over the years. Xai was also a more traditional communist, seen as more aligned with the interests of the State than business. He knew his broad and openly held opinions were often unwelcome among his silent-but-ruthless colleagues. Still, it had been several days already without concrete action.

  ‘At this time, what options have we? We have no idea who is responsible or where they are located. We have few connections known to still exist to the Gang of Four that might be of any use. Then what do you suggest, chairman? We cannot simply wait for intelligence to come in...’

  ‘Obviously,’ Chan said. ‘We are facing talks with the Americans right now with respect to the North Koreans’ test; an incident of any magnitude could ruin them before they begin.’

  Wen had done his homework. ‘There’s one lead. We have information that there’s a man in Macau who may know the location of the original source for Charlie Pang, the gangster from Hunan who died in the raid. If we can follow that back, the connection to Jian Qing may become more apparent.’

  ‘We need to find this man immediately,’ Chan said. The territory’s enforcement autonomy was no more than a formality anymore. ‘Who do we have in Macau right now?’

  MACAU

  Daisy Lee didn’t really need the flop. The table was down to her and the Swede, Magnusson, and he didn’t have the stomach for it. He’d held three cards but given away that he was bluffing with one of his legion of tells, in this case flaring his nostrils every time someone else had drawn a card.

  She’d studied tape of all of her opponents before the match, and had already played most of them several times anyway. Throughout the Poker Gems Invitational Texas Hold ‘Em tournament, he’d flared those nostrils every time he’d been full of hot air and this was no different.

  But just for good measure, the dealer flipped over a Jack of Hearts, giving her a full house, threes over jacks. Unless she was reading him wrong -- and Daisy was not known for blowing a read -- Magnusson was done.

  ‘I’m all in,’ she said at the dealer’s nod. She pushed her chip stacks forward far enough to solidify intent.

  Magnusson could see the steel in her eyes, the complete lack of concern or remorse for his position. He sighed visibly and tossed his cards into the center of the table. ‘I fold.’

  They were almost done, then. He barely had enough left for the ante.

  Her phone rang. Not the phone in her clutch purse; the one she kept on her person at all times. It looked like an outdated flip phone but had built in satellite relaying, letting her stay in contact anywhere on the globe.

  Not now, she muttered to herself. Not when I’m about to finish this arrogant Gwai Lo off in near-record time.

  Magnusson smiled. ‘Do you need to take that?’

  She returned the pleasantry. ‘A moment, please...’ She reached into the inside pocket of her toreador-style half-jacket. Lee took the phone out and checked the text message:

  ‘Your presence is required immediately. Report to this address within the hour.’

  She knew the location in nearby Tanzhouzhen. It was an office of the Liaison Department, the branch of the Army responsible for psychological warfare.

  Critically, she’d forgotten about the game while reading the message, an
d to hide her annoyance behind a poker face. Magnusson was wearing a toothy grin; he’d recognized that she was under a time crunch all of a sudden and he motioned to the dealer. ‘We’re allowed to request a short break in the final, aren’t we?’ He asked. ‘I certainly could use fifteen or twenty minutes to freshen up.’ He looked back at Daisy and smiled more demurely this time, like a satisfied cat.

  Daisy stared plaintively at the dealer but he had to shrug his shoulders. ‘Players in the final are allowed to request one recess of up to one-half hour,’ he said.

  She let her head tilt back in frustration. Lee pushed her million-and-a-half dollars in chips to the center of the table. ‘Player concedes,’ she said.

  The Swede’s jaw dropped open.

  TANZHOUZEN, a suburb of Xiangzhou City, People’s Republic of China

  A half-hour later Daisy was seated before an official with the Liaison Department. He was young but nearly bald, with a wispy beard and round, steel-rimmed glasses.

  ‘You are Li Daiyu, commonly known as Daisy Lee?’

  ‘Correct on the first attempt. Admirable,’ she said dryly. ‘Surely your future within the party will be paved with success. Can you perhaps explain to me why you chose to ruin my tournament after weeks of preparation?’

  The stone-faced officer ignored her insolent tone. ‘Your cover as a professional poker player is of little concern to my department. I believe you were informed by your handler with State Security that you were to acquiesce to all of my requests and give your complete co-operation.’

  ‘Why am I here? Get to the point.’

  ‘In three hours, a man named Stanley Lawson will attend a work retirement party for a university colleague at Wing Mei, a wine bar near Fisherman’s Wharf. Lawson knows the identity of a foreign operative who, in turn, has collected something we need.’

  ‘Better timing?’

  ‘Most amusing. No, he has intelligence on a program initiated within the Liaison Department more than thirty years ago, but quickly dismantled and expunged from the official record.’

  ‘And he has the ‘unofficial record’. Is he blackmailing the department? Surely no one is that stupid.’

  ‘Quite the contrary. Despite having been on our payroll at various times, Mr. Lawson sold this information to a gangster, who in turn was killed before it could be retrieved. But enough of it leaked out in the process for us to determine that the program involved a strike against the west.’

  ‘So? Back in the day I understand they developed plenty of strange schemes to prove the decadence and weakness of America.’

  ‘This one has been set in motion by players as yet unknown. What we do know is that the project was called ‘Legacy’ and it was believed to have been established by loyalists to Jiang Qing and the Gang of Four.’

  Everyone in China was familiar with recent history and the purge of Jiang Qing, the former wife of Mao Tse Tung known in the west as ‘Madame Mao’. Her Counter-Revolutionary Clique had set China back years via a "Cultural Revolution" that purged intellectuals. But she had died in prison in 1991. ‘Again, no one in their right mind...’

  ‘We do not know that these are people ‘in their right mind’,’ he said. ‘We do not know anything about it at all, except that, according to signals intelligence on the gangster who obtained the plan, it would cause a major international incident and involves a terror attack of some sort, likely in America. And Stanley Lawson knows the man who has the key.’

  She opened the file folder on the table. An 8x10 glossy of an elderly man with a beard stared back at her. He had imposing, bushy eyebrows that were still mostly black.

  ‘An electronic copy has been sent to your account. We want you to extract Lawson from the party, debrief him and then terminate.’

  She frowned. ‘Why, exactly? All he’s giving us is the name of the man with the actual information.’

  ‘That data is well above your pay grade,’ he said. ‘You are to follow through with your orders and assist us in all requests, as per your supervisor’s demand. We cannot be sure what Lawson himself has learned, and this is a matter of utmost national sensitivity.’

  ‘You mean political sensitivity.’ She regretted the words as soon as they’d left her mouth; after all, there was no role in public life in China that did not rely in some way on the machinations of politics.

  ‘Your counter-productive attitude shall be noted for the official record,’ said the bureaucrat. ‘Return to Macau and complete your assignment, then contact me here.’

  ‘And my regular handler?’

  ‘He has been reassigned and has returned to Beijing. All of this is in the electronic file. Study it carefully. We would prefer Lawson’s death to look like an accident.’

  ‘Or maybe a heart attack?’ Daisy suggested. ‘Perhaps in five-to-ten years from now?’

  The man did not smile or even blink. ‘Most amusing,’ he said.

  MACAU

  Lee risked another speeding ticket on her way back to her hotel, where she kept a suite as a player-in-residence for the casino downstairs. It wasn’t that she was in any particular hurry, because the party didn’t start for three hours. She just liked the rush of cutting her Nineteen Seventy-Two Porsche 911 in and out of traffic at twice the speed limit.

  She checked for messages at the front desk but there were none. She took the first in the bank of five high-speed elevators up to her room on the twenty-second floor.

  At the door, she paused. As an old habit, she’d left a strand of moistened hair on the door, across the crack, just to be sure no one visited when she was away.

  But it was out of place.

  Lee took the QSW 06 five-point-eight-millimeter pistol from her shoulder holster. She stood away from the door then reached over and pushed it slowly open. The entrance looked clear; the light was on in the bathroom and the door open and she turned to face it as she passed, keeping guard for someone coming out, then taking another hesitant step to her right, toward the suite proper.

  ‘There’s really no need for the gun, Ms. Lee. At least not yet.’ He squinted at the gun, slightly confused. ‘A suppressor? A bit much for a poker player, isn’t it?’

  She recognized the man sitting on her sofa, and the two bodyguards perennially by his side. ‘Jackson Chu. You’re aware it’s illegal to enter someone else’s suite...’

  He waved both hands in a mock show of innocence. ‘A misunderstanding, I would have to claim. The owner of the hotel is an old friend, so I assume it won’t be too much of an issue.’

  ‘And to what do I owe the unique pleasure?’ As far as she knew, Chu was still an enthusiastic medium-market money launderer through his five betting parlors. He had no intelligence profile whatsoever.

  ‘I believe you owe me some money, Ms. Lee.’

  ‘I... think I’d remember something like that. You’re sure you’re not looking for someone else named Lee who plays poker? There are about a billion of us.’

  ‘Yes, but they didn’t just cost me a six-figure payout by walking out on a world-class poker tournament with more than a million in chips still on the table.’

  She looked wistful. ‘Yes... unfortunate, to say the least, but something came up.’

  ‘Really? That’s your explanation? You were interrupted?’

  ‘That’s what happened. Not that it’s any of your business, Mr. Chu, but I have other life responsibilities other than just winning at cards.’

  ‘From an outside perspective, it could be construed that you walked away and threw the match deliberately. Certainly, I imagine your poker league’s authorities will ask no less than I am asking; and they probably lost a lot less money.’

  ‘Yes, but I have an agreement to speak with them about such matters; and they’re a poker league, not the International Olympic Committee. They don’t care that much what I do, if I’m being honest. You, on the other hand, shouldn’t be laying downside bets on games in which you are not involved.’

  ‘Ms. Lee...’

  ‘And your
two gigantic helpers should learn that if the intent of bringing a gun to hotel room is to intimidate someone, it’s a good idea not to leave that gun in a shoulder holster.’

  One of the bodyguards began to take a step forward, but Chu shushed him and held out an arm, blocking the man’s path. ‘Are you quite sure that’s the attitude you’d like to take, Ms. Lee? My man Harold here seems quite intent on demonstrating his lack of requirement for a firearm.’

  ‘Let him demonstrate his proficiency,’ Lee suggested.

  Chu admired her conviction and smiled inquisitively. He removed his arm, and the six-foot-plus guard took two steps her way, then threw a deceptively quick round house punch. Daisy arched over backwards like a limbo dancer, the fist sailing just over her head.

  ‘He only gets one swing. The next time, I hit back,’ she said. ‘Okay?’

  Chu shrugged. ‘As long as this conversation ends with you paying me my three hundred thousand dollars, I don’t really care what you do.’

  ‘Well, that’s not going to happen.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid we shall have to let Harold make up his own mind on the matter.’

  Not wanting to be shown up by a slip of a woman, Harold charged at Daisy, intent on overwhelming her with his sheer size. She dropped low then drove her fist upwards with perfect timing. The guard’s expression shifted to one of shock and he stopped dead in his tracks, the shot to his testicles so painful that he dropped to his knees, a stream of drool flowing from one corner of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed. Daisy used one dainty, heeled foot to push him over onto his side. ‘Next.’

  Chu frowned. ‘Jerome?’ he said, looking up at his other guard.

  Jerome wasn’t messing around. His hand quickly slipped inside his jacket and withdrew his pistol. But before he could train it on Daisy, she’d pirouetted in a blur, a spinning round kick sending the guy flying across the room.